


The Squire's Tale

by yuletide_archivist



Category: A Knight's Tale (2001)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wat has a problem, will he let Geoff help him? Set approximately a year after the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Squire's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta readers. Any mistakes are entirely my fault! Rated PG just because it hints at m/m.
> 
> Written for Fia Reynne

 

 

The darkness of the tiny room was only alleviated by the tiny flicker of flame from a candle that had definitely seen better days. Wat Falhurst viewed the candle as a precious gem, however, so he was careful not to move, sneeze or fart and cause a draft that could snuff that tiny light source out. Wat was a man with a mission: he was determined to write a letter to someone he admired, no, loved, but there was the small snag that he didn't know how to write. He could read, a little, mostly thanks to hanging around with Geoff for the past couple of years, but writing wasn't a skill he'd ever had to master. And now he desperately wanted to, so he'd acquired a cast off piece of parchment from the steward (a rejected series of entries for the household accounts as far as he could tell), the candle stub and an empty storeroom. He was determined to figure this writing business out. 

He squinted at the parchment in front of him, laboriously sounding out the words on the page. "3...bar-rels of ale! Ale, right, know that word! Err, 5 barrels of ..ruh eeh duh...red! Red wine! Wine, heh, know that word too! All right, so let's try this." Picking up a stick, he tried to copy the characters he could see on the page, scratching each letter out laboriously into the dirt floor. Looking at the fruits of his labours, he sighed. It was all right but not much help really. He'd be fine if he wanted to send the object of his affections a shopping list, but not a missive of love. Flinging the stick to the ground, he muttered various profanities about book learning and his lot in life.

It was all Geoff's fault of course. Before he barged into their lives, Wat had managed to convey interest in people the old fashioned way - blushing and stammering had always worked reasonably well. Then Geoff came along, and helped William woo Jocelyn with beautiful words of love and poetry and now, for pities sake, he felt inadequate. He'd die rather than admit it, but he loved listening to Geoff work his magic, be it on tournament crowds, crowded halls or in the local inns. The words touched a spot on his soul that he didn't know he had.

The door behind him creaked open but Wat was so engrossed in his thoughts he didn't hear it. The first thing he noticed was his precious candle flame flickering wildly before going out with a sad little "phut". "Oi!" Now he felt the draft behind him and snarled in the direction of the door. "I don't know who you are, but I'm going to fonging fong you! I'll rip your limbs off, I'll knot your entrails..I'll! I'll! **Pain!** Lots of **PAIN**!"

A light suddenly flared from the direction of his anger and he was temporarily blinded, squinting against the glare from what seemed to be a lantern. "Is that all?" a familiar voice drawled. "For a moment there, I thought you were planning actual damage." Vision returned and Wat made out Geoff Chaucer, holding a lantern up and examining the scene before him with mild amusement and interest. "What are you doing sitting in the dark anyway?"

"I wasn't sitting in the dark, you idiot! I had a candle! Which you put out when you came barging in!" Wat had scrambled off the floor, scuffing his writing attempts out with a foot and hiding the parchment behind his back in what he suspected was going to be a futile effort to keep it from Geoff. Of all the people he didn't want to have this conversation with, Geoff would be top of the list.

Patiently, Geoff persisted "But what were you _doing_ in here?" He looked around. "I'll concede it's a nice enough storeroom, but you have an actual room of your own now, you know. You could skulk in there if you wished." Casually he drifted over to the shelves and feigned interest in their contents.

"I share with you and Roland, as you well know, and you're, y'know, _you_ , and he's bloody insufferable now that he and Christiana are, well, you know. He's worse than Will was when he met the Lady Jocelyn."

"Oh no, no-one was worse than that!" Geoff corrected him, gently. "At least Roland hasn't attempted to woo Kate by telling her she reminds him of his horse's flanks."

Wat conceded the point, recalling those days when they didn't have a roof over their heads, when they were helping Will - Sir William Thatcher as he now was - pretend to be a knight. No pretence needed now, thank the Lord , now Will, _Sir William_ , was a real knight with a small estate in the Midlands to call his very own. The very estate Wat now lived on, in his role as a squire. Official role as squire too, all legal like. It had taken some getting used to.

Momentarily distracted, he didn't see Geoff glide effortlessly behind him and snatch the parchment from his hands.

"Oi! Give that back!"

Geoff danced out of reach of Wat's lunge, taking a quick look at the parchment before allowing Wat to snatch it back at the second attempt. "I'm no expert but that looked like a page from the Steward's roll of accounts. What are you doing, Wat?" A grin developed. "Thinking of applying for his job?"

Wat's answer was short, scatological and, Geoff was fairly sure, physically impossible. However, he chose to ignore the advice and instead settled himself down on a nearby crate, hanging the lantern up so its light spread a little further.

"Come on, Wat, it's me, Geoff. You can tell me."

"You'll laugh," Wat said, sulkily. "You always do." But he stopped fidgeting and returned to his spot on the sacks of flour, staring at the floor, trying to come up with an explanation that wasn't a lie but didn't go near the real reason.

"I won't, what is it? Do you really want to learn how to do household accounts?"

"No! Do I look like a bloody bookworm? And I have enough problems keeping track of me own accounts, particularly when I share a room with a renowned gambler!" 

Geoff acknowledged the shot. "I paid you back, just like I promised!"

"Yeh, eventually! How long did I have to wait? All spring and summer!"

Geoff waved a hand to dismiss the point. "You're changing the subject."

Wat glowered but Geoff was used to this and remained deeply unmoved. Wat sighed and gave in. "All right, but if you tell anyone else, I will fong you so hard...!" At Geoff's "get on with it" gesture, he subsided again and studied the floor with rapt attention.

"I was trying to learn to write."

"Pardon?" Geoff leaned closer, trying to make out the mumbled words.

A faint growl and then Wat repeated, fractionally louder, "I was trying to learn to write!" 

Geoff blinked, processing that carefully to make sure he hadn't misheard and then repeated it softly, no mockery in his tone at all. "You were trying to learn to write? Oh Wat! Why didn't you ask me? I'd be happy to teach you."

Wat looked up at him briefly, heart thumping at the affection in his friend's voice, mirrored by the expression on his face. He hastily resumed his study of the floor in case he blushed like a girl. "Because you'd tell everybody and they'd laugh at me." 

"Why? I mean, why would they laugh? There's maybe a handful of people on this estate who can read let alone write, and you can read a little, can't you? You're already ahead of the game."

"That's not it." He scrubbed at his head with his hands, trying to come up with the words. Words were not his forte. "Look, I was honoured to be made Will's squire official like but it's not like it was with Sir Ector. He was on his way down, all he had left were the horses, the cart and me, William and Roland. He couldn't have servants to match his knightly stature but Will can and should. He's on the rise, a favourite of Prince Edward! I'm the son of a peasant, Geoff, I don't have the education and shite like that that the sons of gentry would have!"

Geoff looked amused. "Education and shite? Well, that covers everything! But why not just ask William? I'm sure he'd arrange a tutor or something."

"Yeh, but...." Wat looked uncomfortable. "Look, the people here are great, they've taken to William just like we said they would and they've welcomed us but for all that, everyone knows our story, who we are, where we're from. I'm sure some of them think we're jumped up swine, pretending to be what we're not!"

"I'm fairly sure no-one's ever mistaken you for a gentleman," Geoff murmured, unable to help himself. Hearing the rising snarls from Wat, he hastily backtracked. "I mean, c'mon, none of us put on heirs and graces and they can see that!"

"Maybe but I dunno, I just don't want anyone to think I'm getting above myself. And I'd feel silly taking lessons like a child. They'd laugh at me!"

"Who, the estate kids? They do anyway." Geoff ducked as Wat aimed a swipe at his head and fended him off. "OK, OK, enough, I take your point. You want to do this on the quiet. Well the offer of teaching stands. I grant that there will be fonging and shouting during the process but I promise I won't laugh, mock, tell the entire estate about it and I will teach you, that I swear. It'll be a lot easier than staring at an accounts roll and trying to make sense of the Steward's handwriting, believe me."

"I wasn't doing too badly!" Wat said, defensively. "I was learning to write some words!"

"I'll bet....wine? Ale? Mead? Ooof!"

Wat could move fast when he wanted to and so Geoff had no chance at all of avoiding the tackle that would have felled far burlier men than he. "Gerroff me, you ungrateful reprobate!"

Wat paused in his efforts at fonging long enough to try and figure out what "reprobate" meant and if he should be insulted. Deciding that yes, yes, he should, he got on with the serious business of beating up Geoff. There was several minutes of happy wrestling before Geoff finally begged for mercy and they lay on the floor, catching their breath and grinning at each other.

Geoff finally got up and dusted himself off, lightly kicking Wat on his way up. "C'mon, I've got to get back."

"So when will you start giving me lessons?"

"Tomorrow, after the evening meal. Roland will be with Christiana so we'll have our room to ourselves."

"Do you think it will take long?" Wat asked, trying to keep the yearning out of his voice.

"Nah, I've taught people before, and when they can read, it usually goes well" A grin. "Well, maybe not for you!" 

Ducking the swipe at his head, he headed off, leaving Wat to pick up the candle stub and lantern, and make the store room tidy before departing. Soon, he hoped, soon he could write. And then he could write that letter he wanted to, like the letter Will wrote Jocelyn, but using his own words, all proper like. And he wouldn't ask Geoffrey to help, no, he couldn't do that, because you didn't ask for help writing a love letter from the person you loved. 

 


End file.
